


The Fanfiction of Poland

by 101nightshade101



Category: Polandball - Fandom
Genre: Broken english, Dreams, Drugs, Mild Gore, Multi, polandball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14030958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/101nightshade101/pseuds/101nightshade101
Summary: Partitions and Brexit, oh my! A collection of badly written paragraphs written by some internet strangers who all have a fondness for flagcircles. May or may not have a coherent plot.





	The Fanfiction of Poland

_Once upon a time, there was a sphere. This sphere had two monochrome eyes and also a really bad pottymouth._

_His name was Poland, and he was stuck upside-down for eternity._

_Russia, coated in a solid red, came along one day and raped Poland._

_“Xaxa yuo is raep” he gloated, as Germany hopped over, dressed in a brighter red, very, very interested in what the slav was doing._

_And that is why Poland cannot into space._

_Alas, is fact of life._

_Very much sad yes._

 

    “What the fuck kind of story was that?” asked America, glaring from beneath his shades. He was clearly not amused. Actually, he didn’t really want to be there.

    “Is story of how USSR did raep of Polska in 1939.” Poland replied, clearly horrified as flashbacks of these events began to flood his mind. He struggled to hold back tears.

    “Shit, don’t cry, it’s just going to make this even more awkward,” America said, trying to be reassuring but failing.

    “Nie! Is of PTSD, am cannot into control it!” Poland said, collapsing onto the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. America backed up a bit, very uncomfortable and unsure of how to handle the despairing sphere.

 

    No matter what Poland did, he could not escape the horribly traumatic events that have happened to him time and time again, almost always in the same fashion. It had all started in 1772; Russia, Austria, and Prussia had decided as a group to grab a piece of clay from Poland. Since then, Poland would repeatedly blink in and out of existence as various countries pursued their expansionist intentions, often trampling Poland in the process. Poland was truly grateful that he had survived this long since the last partition; it had been 79 years since the most recent homosexual partition which was done to him by the USSR and Germany.

 

    But it was no ordinary Germany who did that. It was a megalomaniacal, crazed, and purely evil form of him, mind controlled by Austria (who had a weird incesty thing for him), who was devoted to the takeover of Europe and the extermination of the Jewish people. Since then, Germany had reformed himself greatly. He had created an economic union that several of his neighbors had joined, which was dedicated to keeping prosperity and peace among Europe. Germany was nice to everyone and was always happy to lend money to those in need, even if it got on his nerves sometimes. (Also, Austria never got the same sort of stained reputation that Germany did, even though it was totally all his fault for starting the whole thing in the first place).

 

    But Poland still could not help but look into Germany’s blank yet loving eyes and remember the atrocities done to him at Germany’s hands. Germany wasn’t oblivious to this and tried his best to convince Poland that he was nothing like the beast he was and that he had reformed himself for good.

 

    Poland was beginning to slowly remove any feelings of doubt in Germany’s attempt to change, but he didn’t agree with very many of the policies that Germany’s economic union contained. This union was not friendly to the way of thinking that Poland had stuck with for hundreds of years. Poland believed that Germany was secretly trying to manipulate the union’s members into trusting Germany, only for him to later stab them in the back and repeat the horrid actions from nearly a century ago when he was controlled by Austria. This train of thought, Poland would decide, would be called the Reichtangle Problem. Germany acted nothing like this however and thought that Poland was merely paranoid.

 

    America decided to make a tactical (earthquake-inducing) retreat while Poland was holding an internal monologue. The sunglasses-adorned world power turned a corner around a building as Poland snapped out of his reviere.

 

    “Where- Oh kurwa! Now Polska cannot into friend!”

 

\---

 

At an office building somewhere in Europe...

 

    Germany sipped his black coffee, happy to start the work day, not as happy about other things. Fortunately, there was always work to be done, schedules to complete, and rules to impose. He checked the clock, even though he already knew it was exactly six o’two in the morning.

 

    Recently, however, Germany couldn’t help to be a bit irritated. The UK had decided to leave his union in a sort of crazed state of mind. Meanwhile, America had thrown the reins of being the leader of the free world onto Germany’s levitation radius in a similar fit of sanity, or lack thereof, irritating Germany a fair bit. America’s act of donning a Russian fur cap certainly didn’t help matters either.

 

    The UK going crazy made a bit of sense; being older than a millenium, England was certainly old and was bound to make some mistakes at some point. However, the US starting to act strange didn’t seem to make sense; America was still in his adulthood years, at the fresh age of 242. No mental disease typically set in this early; for countries, Alzheimer's would typically set in at an age of about 700 or so. Though schizophrenia was possible, it was also somewhat late for that particular disease to develop. However, Germany knew that a lack of a diagnosis meant that America’s declining sanity could not be treated easily.

 

    Germany was always busy. Ever since America decided to become more concerned about himself than anyone else, he was left as the most important person in European politics and possibly the whole free world. Since Austria’s brief period of control over him, Germany decided that he would be nice to everyone and that if his nation would thrive, it would be through diplomacy and hard work, and not through force and cruelty.

 

\---

 

In the Alps...

 

    Switzerland woke with a startle as the automatic lights in his bunkerfied bedroom came on. He saw nothing but a flash of pinkish red, and reacting automatically, squashed Liechtenstein, and decked Austria in the face, breaking his silver-rimmed glasses in the process.

 

    “Ach! Vat vas zhat for?!” yelped Austria, pouting as he picked up the pieces of his spectacles.

    “Ich- Wha?!?! Why is vous into here? Du into off meds again?”

    “Mmph!” said Liechtenstein, who was squish.

 

    Switzerland remember rather vividly the last time Austria decided that he didn’t need to take his pills. It ended with two ambulances, one of them carjacked by some Slav thug, Hungary going insane and blind (albeit temporarily), Austria going missing completely for at least half a month, a letter of apology to Serbia, and the ceiling fan being mysteriously taken. (It showed up half a year later in a pawnshop.)

 

    Switzerland shifted his weight to let his microstate out. Austria looked vaguely hungryly at Liechtenstein, who squeaked in terror and retreated into Switzerland’s treasury.

    “Du non can eat-a Liechty!” He scolded.

    “Ich vasn’t think zhat!” he denied, although the shit-eating grin on his pale face said otherwise.

    Switzerland sighed. “Just go away and-a zhe fuck to sleeps.”

 

\---

 

Inside the American undiagnosed schizophrenia multiple personalities…

 

    Michigan looked at his TV screen with shock. His most prominent college football team, the Wolverines of the University of Michigan had fallen to their bitter rival, the Ohio State Buckeyes, by a final score of 31-20. This had happened quite often now but the Wolverines looked like they had a really good shot at victory this time.

 

    Michigan hated Ohio for as long as he remembered. It started in 1836, before Michigan was even a state. He had lost the Toledo Strip to Ohio in exchange for some land in Wisconsin, which would later become his Upper Peninsula. He found lots of copper in the U.P. and found easy riches. But now the U.P. was rebellious and almost useless. Michigan knew that Ohio would brag yet again if he ran into him, so he tried to avoid him. But the instant Michigan got off the couch he was previously sitting on, Ohio was right there waiting for him, causing Michigan to jump back in surprise.

 

    “Hah! Looks like my Buckeyes beat your bumbling group of losers you call a team! For the sixth straight year!” said the (appropriately named) Buckeye State, already taking advantage of the bragging rights over his northern rival.

    “Hey, don’t act like it was an easy victory! They had a chance this time!” the (also appropriately named) Wolverine State remarked in protest, but to no avail.

    “Yeah, they _had_ a chance. They suck and there’s no fixing them. A perfect metaphor for your delinquent of a son.” Ohio said, obviously taking a shot at Michigan’s son, Detroit. This ignited anger in Michigan, a rare sight from him.

    “Don’t talk shit about my son, you douche! He’s getting back on track and he’s a hell of a lot better than your entitled brat!” Michigan snapped, returning the favor by insulting Cleveland. This was the breaking point for both states.

    “Oh, you wanna go there, Bitch-igan?!”

    “Gladly, No-hio!”

 

    Ohio tackled Michigan to the floor and threw what would’ve been a punch if not for the fact that neither of them had arms. Michigan barely dodged it and retaliated with a missed punch of his own. The fight went on for a few minutes and even drew a crowd amongst some of the other states. Nobody intervened until Indiana stepped in and managed to stop the fight.

 

    “Stop it, you guys!” She said, “Why can’t you two just get along?” Ohio was quick to answer the Hoosier State’s question.

    “Why do I have to get along with this bozo?! He calls my son a brat when he’s raising a dirty criminal!” Before Michigan could remark, Indiana chimed in once more.

    “I don’t want to hear it! Now you two are gonna stop this silly fight and just walk away from each other.”

    Michigan and Ohio agreed and walked in opposite directions.

    “This isn’t over,” Michigan snarled under his breath.

    “It’s never over with you two.” Indiana said, slightly annoyed.

 

    They could all hear a distant but piercing “REEEEEEEE” emanating from Appalachia’s direction. Shaking their collective heads, they felt obligated to head south and check on West Virginia’s newly constructed mental asylum.

 

\---

 

Outside...

   

    Germany and Poland watched, confused, as America appeared to begin arguing with himself once again. It seemed to them that, although America wasn’t officially diagnosed, his federated nature was clearly messing with his head. America didn’t even seem that bad as an amalgamation of 13 “states”; however, he would only end up becoming more and more uncomposed as he began to “manifest his destiny”, as he called it.

 

\--

 

Inside the American undiagnosed schizophrenia multiple personalities… ...again...

 

    “Well, Dad, I’ve made up my mind and I’m moving out.” California sternly said to his father, America.

    “I’m not one to argue with you at this point. You can head on out if you like.” America said, obviously stressed out from dealing with Michigan and Ohio’s fight from earlier.

    “R-really?” California said in complete surprise. He didn’t expect his dad, who was dedicated to keeping himself whole, to let him go that easily.

    “You’ve earned it, kiddo. Good luck out there.” America replied.

 

    California’s bags were already packed for his beginnings as an independent country. His Economy bag was massive as always, but his government bag seemed a bit small for his size. America wasn’t really concerned; he knew that California would be able to handle himself well.

 

    “I’ll be on my way now.”

 

\--

 

Outside, yet again...

 

    The world was shocked as they watched America appear to grow a tumor. It wasn’t any ordinary tumor; no, it was as large in proportion to America as Catalonia was to Spain. The younger countries trembled, seeing an ageless power appear to break down before their eyes. The older countries, however, recognized this situation; after all, America had split completely into two distinct parts in 1861 and the part that left would be forcibly and violently reabsorbed into the rest after 4 years of intense turmoil.

 

    All of Western Europe began to sweat; North Korea briefly mused about whether this was truly the right time to nuke California’s many cities since if California wasn’t the one to come out of the tumor, the rest of America would turn against him. America’s tumor had started to form around one of America’s many stars. The star itself started to turn red as the area surrounding it faded from the dark blue it was to a plain white. The star also began to shift to the upper-left side of the tumor.

 

    Canada and Mexico broke into a frenzied panic immediately; they knew immediately who would pop out as soon as the star shifted its color and position. The stars on America’s face shifted as they formed a 7x7 square to represent the 49 he now had. After a while, California popped out of America and the tumor disappeared. The expressions of horror on everyone but North Korea’s face were cause for America to address the situation.

 

    “Keep calm, everyone! I let California go on my own terms. He’s his own country now and will get to know you all later.” America said, trying to change the still terror-struck faces of the rest of the world. “Now you run along, son.”

 

    California was too embarrassed to even say anything and just took off until he was out of sight.

 

    “Huh. When I said ‘run along’, I didn’t expect him to take it seriously..” America stated.

 

\---

 

Chernobyl?...

 

_wake up._

_i said wake up._

 

    The first thing that Russia noticed was that he wasn’t breathing. Alarmed, he opened his eyes, perceiving a psychedelic mess of colors rushing around him, making his head hurt. Slowly, the land stabilized, revealing that he was standing on a hill, looking down at a ruined building. Everything seemed to be decked out in a pastel palette, the sky teal with pink clouds. The smoke curling up to the sky was a toxic yellowy-green, the broken walls of the building itself a baby blue. Russia suddenly realized that the grass he was touching was a light grey, but turned blood-red near the ruins.

   

    _they know._

 

    Most disconcerting of all, however, was the quiet, hissing whispers. They were just barely audible, and what he could hear sounded disturbingly familiar.

 

_it’s good that you killed them._

 

    Russia pondered on the voices for a moment. He wondered how America could handle 50 different voices in his head; he already felt queasy hearing only a few. Eventually, he decided to ignore them and explore the wreckage below.

 

_let me out._

 

    He made his way down to the foot of the hill, approaching cautiously. There was no noises but the whispers ringing in his head. Judging the immediate area to be safe, he went closer.

 

_LET ME OUT._

 

    Russia winced as one voice in particular shrieked. The smoke moved, shifting into the shape of…

 

    ...A bird?

 

    A bird, with two red eyes that burned like hellfire.

 

    It opened its sharp beak and lunged.

 

    _FREEDOM._

 

    Russia tried to scream, but found that his mouth was filled with blood.

 

\---

 

In some dingy, damp alley...

 

    Belarus stirred as she heard a scream in the distance. She froze for a moment, trying to place where it had come from. Opening her three eyes, she crept out of the dark alley where she had slept. Guided by radiation-induced night vision, made her way towards the source, which looked to be in the direction of Russia’s house.

 

    Unfortunately, she failed to notice the tripwire, tied to a broken traffic pole at an abandoned intersection.

 

    The cage crashed down around Belarus, and she froze, paralyzed with fear.

 

    Russia peeked out from behind the corner, wielding a rusty sickle, a maniacal glint in his eyes.

 

“Shhhhhhh, all will be over soon.”


End file.
